


personal rebellions

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Guilt, Injury Recovery, M/M, Movie: Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Jabba's Palace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: It was only then, as Lando was trying to answer, that Lando realized he was worrying at a thread in his trousers’ seams. His clothing never used to have loose threads, but that was before the Rebellion, before he lost Cloud City and had to find a way to win her back. Before he owed Han as many months of his time in order to bring him back. But now that he was here… every thought of leaving flew out of his head. Maybe he’d originally come in here to say goodbye and to apologize. Now all he wanted to do was climb into bed with Han, forget for a while that there was usually a pretty good reason for staying on opposite sides of the galaxy.





	personal rebellions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



Lando’s fingers plucked at his lower lip, an ancient nervous tic he’d thought purged from his repertoire of behaviors long ago, back when he was learning to play Sabacc and needed a clean slate every time he sat at the table. He’d learned quickly that you didn’t win tournaments by wearing your heart on your sleeve. All of the things that had made him him up until that point? They were cut out and abandoned. Now, though, looking at Han as one of the Rebellion’s med droids scoured him for signs of lingering hibernation sickness, every last one of his bad habits wanted to reassert themselves.

He felt like a child standing in the corner waiting for one of his parents to spell out his doom for his latest misadventure.

And the worst part of it was Han wouldn’t even look at him. Admittedly, he was currently preoccupied with getting blasted in the face with the brightest light on the ship and cursing up a storm about it, but even before that, Han had been quiet. He’d averted his gaze, focused on getting as much of the story out of Luke and Leia as he could rather than talk to Lando on the trip back to _Home One_.

Lando tried not to read that as an indictment of him personally, but it was a little difficult to not read more into it than the surface suggested. Sure, he and Lando hadn’t seen one another in a long time and Luke and Leia were newer, more trustworthy friends, willing to go straight into the rancor’s mouth—literally even—for Han. In the underworlds Han and Lando skirted around and sometimes dived straight into, that was a rare quality to find in others. But even so, Han and Lando had always been Han and Lando. They’d shared every horrible low and every grandiose height in their time together. And sure, they always went their separate ways in the end, but it was amicable. Always amicable.

They always left knowing there would be another opportunity to get payback. Whether the good kind or bad depended on the outcome of their previous encounter, of course. Couldn’t reward bad behavior after all. Or punish good.

Not that they didn’t do that sometimes anyway. Scoundrels couldn’t always help themselves. Those were some of their best times in Lando’s estimation. But maybe all of those times were in the past, this being the final straw.

Crossing his arms, Lando stared at the floor and tried not to fidget too much, another old tic that he had gone through a lot of trouble shedding. The med droid continued humming, thoughtful, as it completed its task and Lando was finding himself closer to screaming in frustration than he would have liked. It was bad enough that this had happened at all, but he desperately needed to know if it’d hurt Han permanently, if this would become a line they couldn’t wipe away with a few glasses of brandy and judicious applications of well, _I’ll just have to get you back worse then, see how you like it_.

Of course, Lando found himself so tangled up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the med droid’s words as it stepped out of the way and trundled out of the room on unsteady legs. It sometimes amazed Lando how droids were able to get around so well despite their creators’ disinterest in properly designing for them. The poor, clunky thing could barely walk without risking a fall. He wasn’t the first droid Lando had seen like that and he wouldn’t be the last. It was something to think about, that. But at another time.

It was only at this point that Lando realized he didn’t actually need to be thinking about the droid. The droid barely mattered, not when he was finally alone in a room with Han for the first time in what seemed like forever.

In a way, it had been forever. And maybe for the first time in his life, Lando had no idea what to say into that stretch of time. And to Han of all people, whom he could pester incessantly about anything. With Han staring at him, hands winding in the thin sheet that covered whatever modesty and dignity remained to him, not doing anything and certainly not breaking the ice that was poised to crack between them, Lando was utterly at a loss.

He hated it. More than that, he felt useless.

They’d hurt and used one another in so many ways, but this took the top prize.

And the very worst part of it was, he would have done it again. Sure, if he knew the outcome, he might have tweaked the conditions if he could, but if it came down to saving the city he’d made his own or giving the Empire what it wanted, there was only one choice to make.

If he had any choice in the matter, though, he would have gone back in time and slapped his past self a couple of times for good measure. Thinking he could operate independently under the Empire’s nose? The purest arrogance. That? That he might have been willing to change for Han. As much as he loved Cloud City and being Baron Administrator, he hated how small and weak Han looked now even more. He’d seemed fine while they were escaping from Jabba’s Palace. As fine as anyone with hibernation sickness could look anyway, but now he just look worn down, tired, lost. And Lando would’ve done a lot to wipe that away.

Lando took a step toward the bed, rethought it, took a step back and crossed his arms. “How’re you feeling?” he asked finally, a pathetic excuse for a greeting. He chafed his arms and wished he had his cape. Fleeing from Cloud City, though, he hadn’t had much of a chance to gather provisions and Han had long ago gutted the cape closet, much to Lando’s continuing chagrin. He already felt off-balance, but he was pretty much half himself without one.

Han blinked a couple of times before settling on an eye roll. “Like shit,” he said, simple and easy. But Lando had learned that nothing was ever simple or easy at the heart of it. Everything was complicated; everything hurt. Even so, it was heartening to hear Han talking to him like anything was even slightly normal. “Jabba’ll do that to you every time.”

Though Lando wanted to laugh, he smothered the feeling with a cough. The last thing he wanted was for Han to think he was laughing at him and not the disgruntled delivery of his words. That was another thing Jabba would do to you: leave you with belligerent feelings toward him. A hazard of tangling with him. He’d never been anyone’s favorite gangster and definitely wasn’t Han’s.

The feeling was sadly, irrevocably mutual.

And now look at what they all had to show for it. Han in the medbay and Lando… Lando something else all together. He felt wrung out, exhausted and unhappy at this turn of events. He never wanted any of this. All he’d wanted was to protect his people.

But Han was his people, too. Made it there fair and square long before Bespin was even a blip on Lando’s radar. If the galaxy was a just, kind place, he wouldn’t have had to choose between the two. And he hated knowing what he’d chosen.

“Hey,” Han said, “what’s with the face?”

Lando didn’t answer for a moment, only hearing the question after a delay, as though they were communicating across a vast distance. And maybe they were really when it came down to it. There’d always been differences between them, unhappy conversations and misunderstandings and the occasional deliberate swindle. But right now, Lando wanted none of it. Instead, what he wanted was to—to…

“This is my face,” Lando said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. You’re going to have to specify.”

“You look like someone ran over your favorite cape,” Han said. And then he smiled crookedly. “I know because I saw that happen once.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lando’s mouth; he couldn’t help it. The memory was a good one, in retrospect. Or at least Lando looked back on it with fondness the same way he looked back at most of their exploits with fondness these days. Maybe it was the sentimentalist in him. “You made that happen once. I loved that cape.”

The same soft smile graced Han’s face. “It was worth it though.”

“Yeah, because your stupid scheme actually worked.”

Han jerked his head suddenly toward the chair that sat near his bed. “Why don’t you pull up a seat? You can tell me in more detail all about my stupid schemes.” He managed to sound remarkably pleased with himself for a man who’d just spent a good chunk of his life as a wall decoration in Jabba’s palace. And not even a particularly good one.

“I…” Looking at the chair, he knew exactly why he hadn’t done just what Han was asking him to do. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

“Well, yeah. Some people don’t like to hear about their mistakes. But there’s something so enjoyable about watching you—”

Lando stared at him, smile turning to a serious frown. “I meant sitting down. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Uh huh.” Han patted the edge of his bed then, hand _thump thump thumping_ lightly against the sheets. He didn’t speak in condemnation, but it still made something itch at the back of Lando’s mind, something he wanted to scratch and bite at until it went away. Gnash and wail until he bled and maybe that would be enough payment. But he’d seen enough in life to know that you couldn’t get rid of guilt that easily. “Then why are you here?”

It was only then, as Lando was trying to answer, that Lando realized he was worrying at a thread in his trousers’ seams. His clothing never used to have loose threads, but that was before the Rebellion, before he lost Cloud City and had to find a way to win her back. Before he owed Han as many months of his time in order to bring him back. But now that he was here… every thought of leaving flew out of his head. Maybe he’d originally come in here to say goodbye and to apologize. Now all he wanted to do was climb into bed with Han, forget for a while that there was usually a pretty good reason for staying on opposite sides of the galaxy.

Han sighed and gestured Lando forward, impatient. When Lando didn’t move right away anyway, still hesitant, he snapped his fingers and then leaned forward as though he intended to get up. When he winced, Lando knew that the bluff would be called. He gave in and stepped close enough to Han that Han could take his hand and he sat so that they were finally at eye level. “I know we’ve pulled a lot of stupid shit with one another in our time, but even I know you wouldn’t have willingly handed me over to Darth Vader and Jabba. I don’t blame you.”

Maybe that was the problem; Han should have blamed him. The muscles in Lando’s jaw bunched and tightened as Han took hold of him, thumb brushing over Lando’s knuckles. “I shouldn’t have believed I could… All I wanted was an independent city, free from Imperial interests.” His gaze found the ceiling and he sighed, brushing his free hand across his lap, trying to ignore the delicacy of Han’s touch. It wasn’t Lando who deserved kindness now.

“Yeah,” Han said, sympathetic, warm, “that was kind of dumb, but you held out longer than anyone else could’ve.”

“You’ve gone soft,” Lando said, a distraction and perhaps unfair, though it was true. There’d been a time when Han was on the lookout for every possible angle from which another guy might screw him over. Now he was acting a whole hell of a lot like his old self, the man he was when Lando first met him. At the time, he’d thought him a fool to be so trusting and open. Seeing it now? Lando couldn’t say it didn’t agree with him.

“And you’re more responsible than I remember,” he answered. “I guess we had to grow up a little bit sometime.”

With a laugh, Lando shook his head. “This isn’t really how I wanted to see you again,” he said. “Not with you stuck in a medbay.”

“I’ve been stuck in worse around here with these jokers. You should ask Luke about the time I shoved him into a tauntaun on Hoth.”

Lando’s nose wrinkled. That was the absolute last thing he wanted and he was sure Han knew that. Even so, it was worth imagining how awful that must’ve been for the way Han laughed at him. Lando always had liked it when Han laughed. Even when it was at Lando’s expense. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Han answered. “But you still put up with me somehow.” He paused for a moment and squeezed Lando’s hand. They weren’t always great with words that weren’t meant to sting or bamboozle, but Han was clearly trying. “I’m, uh, glad you’re here.”

Heart caught in his throat, Lando realized he was going to have to confront this somehow. Might as well be now. Otherwise he’d just spend the rest of however long they had worrying. He’d already heard word that the Rebellion was planning a final push. And Lando was determined to be a part of it. He’d gotten to know these people, cared about them. He owed them and Han. But he’d never be able to think of anything if he didn’t get this dealt with. “After what I did?”

“Is that why you’re so uptight?” Han squinted up at him. Maybe his eyesight was still adjusting. Lando didn’t know all the symptoms of hibernation sickness, but Han had definitely had a bit of a problem seeing earlier. Or maybe he was just curious. Lando didn’t know. All he could say was his stomach twisted unhappily as he waited for Han to finish speaking. Yeah, of course that was why he was uptight. Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t every day you hadn’t over your lover to the Empire, spent months searching for him, and finally get him back and land him in the medbay all in one go.

Surely Han realized. He was pretty incompetent when it came to his feelings, but this was too much. When Han only stared at him for a long while, he almost spoke, but then Han shook his head, disbelieving. “Look, we all make deals we don’t like sometimes,” he finally continued. “If I was going to give you a hard time about it, I’d have done it long before now. Let’s just—what’s done is done, okay? You got me back in one piece. Luke and Leia aren’t dead. I’m not dead. Jabba is dead, which. Worth it, don’t you think? I definitely feel I came out of this a winner. The only one here who might’ve lost out is you from everything I’ve heard.”

Lando blinked and stared down at Han and blinked again. “Yeah, uh.” He coughed and tried so damned hard not to feel that as a rebuke. Han certainly wasn’t meaning it that way. “Cloud City’s under Imperial occupation.” His nails scraped across the back of his neck. “Everybody got out though. That’s the important part. We’ll get it back.”

Han nodded and squeezed Lando’s hand again, tighter this time. “I’ll help if I can.”

A lump formed in Lando’s throat, hard to swallow around. “I appreciate that, Han. I really do.” Who in the hell had they become that they could talk to one another like this? It was like something out of a really weird dream, nothing Lando would have imagined or come up with in his conscious mind. It was nice. Really nice. Different in a lot of ways from what had come before.

They hadn’t trusted one another before, not fully, but Lando was beginning to think that had changed somewhere along the way. And he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Because he did. Oh, he did. It was all he could do to stop himself from leaning forward and kissing the taste of Han’s last round of bacta treatment from his lips.

“You planning on sticking around in the meantime?” Han asked.

“Yeah,” Lando said. That wasn’t ever in question. And from the pleased, shy smile that graced Han’s face, it would’ve been worth it even if he’d never wanted to stick around to begin with. Standing, he pressed a kiss to Han’s forehead, perhaps a decent compromise from what he found he wanted to do to Han instead. That, he thought, would have to wait until later, when Han was released. “You won’t be getting rid of me that easily this time.”

Han’s smile became a full-blown grin.

For that, Lando would’ve stuck throw a whole lot worse than a rebellion. That was new.

But he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.


End file.
